A Science Fiction Story - If Only I Was You
by carysmith1
Summary: Getting into bed, I make one last petition to the good Lord. "God, if only my husband could just walk in my shoes, he might understand how I feel with the hot flashes, no best way to write an essay and anxious thoughts, and the depression that comes and goes. Men have it made. If only I was born a man."


**A Science Fiction Story: If Only I Was You!**

Leaving the table abruptly, I spout some unruly words once more; Tom just gets on my nerves. Looking back at my husband, he pays my ranting no attention. He sits there reading his paper, as if he does not have a care in the world. 'Mr. Cool' I call him. I know I am rather high strung, and tend to pick battles. Nothing ever disturbs him; sometimes it gets me even more heated when he acts as if everything is just fine.

Getting into bed, I make one last petition to the good Lord. "God, if only my husband could just walk in my shoes, he might understand how I feel with the hot flashes, no best way to write an essay and anxious thoughts, and the depression that comes and goes. Men have it made. If only I was born a man."

After offering my pathetic prayer, I fall asleep listening to the wonderful sounds of his manly snoring next to me.

I wake up to an alarm sounding in my ear, and then a squawking, an irritating sound that drowns out the alarm, "Wake up; you are going to be late!"

Opening one eye, I look to see 'me' looking at me. What the…? I feel something is not right, my body feels different, what is going on? I lift the covers, to find I have manly parts connected to my body. I start to scream uncontrollably, my voice is deep, but sounding like a little a girl!

"What is wrong with you Tom?" The woman, who is supposedly I, asks in an irritated tone.

"What am I am doing in Tom's body?" I scream loudly.

The woman looks at me and laughs wickedly, "You must have had a bad dream, you need to jump in the shower, or you are going to be late Tom!"

The woman, who is I, walks out of the bedroom, slams the door, and is notably upset, _what a witch_, I think to myself, she did not even seem to care that I am not myself.

Scared to get out of bed, I peek under the covers once more; _oh, God what has happened to me? This must be a bad dream._ Thinking to myself, _I know I will take a cold shower and it will surely wake me out of this nightmare._

I slowly rise out of bed with the new appendages, but first I must urinate. If I am dreaming or not…I must relieve myself, I have seen my husband do this thousands of times, I am sure I can handle this. Lift the lid, pee, and shake…yes that is right…okay that is done! Avoiding the mirror, I jump in the shower. _Good Lord this man is hairy_ I say to myself, as I try to shave my beard that has grown overnight.

I wash quickly and towel dry, mustering enough courage to look into the mirror, I peek, and it is true, I am my husband, _oh Lord…why did you answer my prayer? What am I going to do?_

Suddenly there is a knock on the door, "You are really taking your time this morning Tom. Coffee is on; I am late for my nail appointment! See you later!"

Slightly relieved that she has left the house, I am slowly putting the pieces together. 'She'… or I should say 'me' does not have a clue that I am Tom. I am not sure where Tom is right now. My only recourse is to be Tom for today; surely…the good Lord will change me back soon. I cannot imagine having to lift the lid the rest of my life.

I begin to get dressed, noticing that many of my shirts are not ironed, so I must hurry and iron one so that I can get to work. I think to myself, _Tom must have been ironing his shirts on his own and never once asked me. I have not taken anything to the cleaners in months.  
_  
I grab a cup of coffee, noticing the dishes piled in the sink from dinner. Feeling slightly bad for not doing the dishes, I get in the car; attempting to fight the morning traffic.

Noticeably hungry, I realize I did not pack a lunch. Once at the office I look in my bill fold for some dollars so that I can hit the snack machine. I then remember I had taken the last 20 out of Toms' wallet for my nails today, not thinking once if he had money for lunch.

_At least one of us is getting something we want today._

Just about that time, Mr. Sanders sticks his head in, "You got the Smiths account done? You know Tom…we are watching who is going to give us 110 percent."

_What a mean man,_ I think to myself. _He will not be getting a Christmas card this year!_

Tom has worked every night until midnight trying to finish this account. I realize I have not given him the support he needs. I could have at least offered him a cup of coffee or snack but CSI was on; I did not want to miss my favorite show.

I fiddle most of the day shuffling papers, as I have no idea what the mountains of papers are, and the phone calls keep coming but I let them go to voice mail. It is nonstop…I do not see how Tom does it.

My mind starts to remember when Tom told me I could quit work if I wanted and that he would take care of me. I had the most stressful job but he told me he would support me, not to worry. I somehow lost who I was. I feel like I have become selfish, and lazy. It seems as if it has been all about me.

I decide to give myself a call around noon just to check in and say Hello. "Hi uh…honey, how's it going, I say, not letting on that I am not myself.

"Tom…I hope you are in a better frame of mind, because my parents are coming to dinner and you need to be at your best. Dinner is at six sharp. Do not be late!"

"But…I…" I try to explain but the phone goes dead. _What is she thinking? She did not even consult me before making plans._

I feel irritated, defeated, and lost. I do not like being Tom very much and I certainly do not like me at all!

The day finally ended and I head home, not looking forward to the dinner, when suddenly the phone rings and it is SHE!

"Tom I need you to stop by the store and pick up bread, milk, butter, and one of those cheese cakes!"

"Really?…but…" Phone goes dead! I am wondering what would happen if I did not do as she said. What is the worst that could happen? Knowing myself…it would not be pretty!

I head out of the office, running into my boss, which gives me a very disappointing look, as he looks at his watch. It is 5:30 pm, and fighting the commute traffic once more, I stop at the store. The lines are long, and everyone and their brother needs milk. After getting the things on the list, I look at my watch and it is 6:00 pm. I check my phone to see that I have several missed calls from me.

Walking in the door with grocery bags in hand, I see my in-laws and wife sitting in the living room with slightly disgruntled looks on their face.

I offer an apology, "Sorry I am late!"

I see 'myself' looking very angry, glaring at me.

"Your dinner is in the oven…thank you for showing up!"

My in-laws excuse themselves, and say their good nights. I think to myself, this is going to be a long night. I head to my study to pretend finishing some paperwork, and feeling like I so need a hug. Even if it will be from me, it would be comforting to have warm arms around me. I notice that 'she' or I should say 'I' has already retired to the bedroom, and the dishes are piled even higher in the sink.

I quietly go to our room, sitting next to her, stroking her face, hoping she would open her eyes to acknowledge me. By comforting myself, I would find comfort.

That is when it happened. "Leave me alone Tom, I am tired!" she says rolling over with her back to me. I felt rejected, alone, and such a fool. I wonder to myself how many times Tom has felt this way.

I quietly get in bed after midnight, laying there thinking about the way the day had been. I knew I surely did not want to be Tom and I did not want to be married to me!

I began to pray, "Dear Lord…if you will change me back, I promise to be a better wife."

Feeling like a total failure, tears run down my cheeks. I close my eyes and sleep, thankfully tomorrow will be Saturday.

Morning comes and I slowly open my eyes, apprehensive that my prayer may not been answered. I peek under the covers to find I no longer have a manly body. I look over at Tom and smile. I jump out of bed and start the coffee. Washing up all the dishes, I then make his favorite breakfast and bring it to him in bed. Sitting on the side of the bed, I touch his face gently and he opens his eyes.

"Good morning, I made you breakfast in bed!" I say smiling.

He sits up quickly, almost startled, "are you okay, and is something wrong?"

I look at him with a new love and appreciation for the first time in years.

"Oh Tom…everything is perfect…just fine!"


End file.
